


Blame the Elf Hat

by Tatalina



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Gen, M/M, The Haus tries to do Christmas.
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-19
Updated: 2014-12-19
Packaged: 2018-03-02 06:25:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2802755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tatalina/pseuds/Tatalina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bitty just wants to do something festive for the Haus, and to survive to the end of Term.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alcatraz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alcatraz/gifts).



> Hi there. 
> 
> This was written for jokedads on tumblr (alcatraz on here) for the Swawesome Santa Exchange! I hope you like it.
> 
> This hasn't been beta'd and will be posted in 3 sections throughout today (Dec. 19th) as I try and proof-read them. Sorry about that! If you want to find me on tumblr, my url is regenerationterra.

Bitty shuffled in his seat, trying to get comfortable on the green couch while everyone mulled around in the room. He would much rather have been standing next to Nursey or Chowder, but Shitty had pulled him down next to him. Mentally, Bitty cringed as he imagined the various germs and infestations that might be brushing against his bare arms in that very moment.

“Why are we down here?” Holster asked from the corner, nudging Ransom’s shoulder as he spoke.

“It was Bitty’s idea. Ask him,” Ransom responded loudly, nudging right back. 

The room was crowded, with all current Haus members having draped themselves across all of the available furniture, and then the rest of the team filling in all of the remaining gaps where they stood. Bitty wrinkled his nose, looking around—it smelled and looked like their locker room, with the underlying musk of the Haus floating around as everyone talked amongst themselves. Even Lardo was there, sitting on the arm of the sofa comfortably. The frogs were the only ones quiet, with Dex glancing around nervously every few seconds and Chowder on his other side bouncing silently in anticipation. Nursey was the only calm one; he had found a means of entertainment in sharing silly faces with Ransom across the room. 

“Yeah, Bitty. Why are we all here? Is there more pie?” someone called out from behind him. 

“No, no. I could make some more, though, if you’d like, after this. I actually had an idea for Christmas, that I wanted to run by everyone. I was thinking, while I was skating the other day, that with the holidays coming up and the end of term almost here, we should do a Haus Holiday dinner and you know, exchange presents and everything.” He shrugged, with a small grin.

“A party? Like Winter Screw?”  
“There’s enough time to get a keg and all, I think. Right Jack?”  
“Oh awesome, I love holiday parties!”

The chorus of responses was overwhelming and it took Bitty a few moments to speak again, having to raise his voice a bit to be heard. “Not a party, a dinner! Like what we did with Thanksgiving, but with a secret santa and everything, too. Or Snowflake, since not everyone celebrates Christmas. We could decorate the Haus and it’d be so nice.”

Someone laughed. “Whoever thought of Secret Snowflake? That’s gotta be the best thing I’ve ever heard.”

Bitty grinned. Maybe this would work after all.

“I’m game. But there’s no reason there can’t be some fun involved, too. I’m still thinking a keg. Ransom, your thoughts?” 

“You know what I’m about, Holster,” he said with a grin to his compatriot. To Bitty, Ransom nodded and said, “We’ll take care of it! It’ll be swawesome.”

Again, there was a chorus of agreement and laughs. Someone chimed in that they could host it the last weekend of term, the night before Winter Screw for some more extreme fun before the formal kind. Lardo volunteered to help organize it, as long as Shitty handled the decorations. Shitty immediately looked at the Frogs and told them flat out that they’d be responsible for creating and hanging any and all decorations. He finished off his someone threatening order by saying that he expected a tree. 

The only team member who hadn’t yet spoken was Jack, who was sitting quietly on one of the arm chairs, fiddling with the sleeves of his grey-heathered Henley. Bitty let his gaze linger for a few moments, watching Jack’s long fingers slip through one of the small holes that had finally been worn through the area just below the seam. His black hair was getting a little long in the front, and fell lightly over Jack’s forehead as he looked down. It looked soft.

Bitty bit his lip to hold in a sigh. While things had been better between them, they still weren’t as good as he would like. Jack was so serious, and even living across from him hadn’t gotten the team captain to open up to Bitty. One day, maybe, Bitty thought to himself. Either that, or Bitty would have to get over this hopeless crush before Jack graduated. 

“So how’s the Secret Snowflake shit going to go?” Nursey asked finally, breaking through the various conversations and thoughts of the group.

“Oh! I have everyone’s names already on slips of paper.” Bitty stood up and rushed towards the kitchen, where he’d left his old Elf hat for safe-keeping during the meeting. Or tried to at least. Trying to leap over the various feet and members of the team who had grown tired of standing ended with Bitty falling face first into someone’s chair and then sliding down onto the floor with a groan. He closed his eyes tightly, embarrassed.

“Are you okay, Bittle?” 

He felt a soft touch on his foreheard, and cracked his eyes open to see who was inspecting him. Jack, of course it was Jack. However, instead of the exasperation he had expected to see all over his captain’s face, all Bitty saw was concern. 

“Your head’s alright, yeah? You didn’t aggravate your concussion, did you?” Jack asked quickly, worry edging into his voice as his fingers felt around for a bump.

“No, no, I’m fine. Sorry, I just tripped. Nothing to worry about. See, I’m fine!” Bitty stood up quickly and hurried out of the room, his face bright pink. He took longer than was necessary to return, not wanting to face Jack and the guys again so soon.

Finally, he entered the room again, holding his green and red hat aloft. 

“I’ll go first, and then we can just pass it around. If you get yourself, put it back and draw again!”

The rules of secret santa were pretty self-explanatory at this point, he assumed, so with that, Bitty drew a slip of paper from the bag and passed it to the next person. 

Chris Chow

That’d be easy enough, he knew. He rubbed the back of his head as he waited for the elf hat to finish making its rounds, not speaking again until the hat was safely in his hands again.

“Since that was all I had, I guess everyone is free to go back to studying? Don’t forget to get a gift and the like! We can trade presents after the dinner, and before the party.” With that, most of the group began milling out, and Bitty took advantage of his position near the door to do so before he got consumed by the crowd of hockey players. He had finals he wanted to study for, now that his first part was done. Once he felt confident enough in his knowledge, he’d go make a pie. That counted as studying for his Women, Food, and American Culture class, he was sure.

* * *

Jack stared at the wrinkled piece of red construction paper in his hand, trying to smooth out the crease down the middle, marring the words printed on it in smooth block handwriting. Everyone else was making their way back to their rooms, but he wasn’t ready to move yet, as he contemplated the name before him.

Eric Bittle

He wasn’t sure what to do with this. He could use the gift as an opportunity to show Bittle how he felt, since his skills with words left a lot to be desired when it came to expressing his emotions, or maybe something practical, like a new baking set. Or something to help his teammate with Hockey. Each gift would send a different message across, and Jack wasn’t sure which message it was that he was ready so send. 

“Yo, bossman. What’s with that face?” Lardo asked, coming over to stand next to him. 

Jack looked around and saw that no one else was in the room. Wordlessly, he lifted the slip of paper up, so that she could see it. 

“Ah. Well, whatever you get him, I’m sure he’ll be happy.”

He nodded. Lardo was one of the few members of the team aware of Jack’s feelings towards Bitty. She’d figured it out during one conversation over the summer, when he’d been panicking over the fact that Bitty hadn’t been in much contact with most of the team. 

“Let me know if you need help, okay?”

Again, he nodded and began examining the paper. Perhaps the answer of what he should get would be hidden within its depths.


	2. The Middle

After practice a week later from Jack sitting on the locker room bench contemplating gifts. Coach had pointed out yesterday that team had been coming together well this term, with a congratulatory clap on Jack’s shoulder, but whether it was the secret santa looming over his shoulder, or Bitty’s odd behavior all week, something still seemed off. Jack’s hope was that if he could find the perfect gift for Bitty, things would calm down again, and everything would right itself within the Samwell world. 

Both Lardo and Shitty had been adamant that this was the perfect opportunity to try and tell Bitty how he felt, and while they had points, Jack wasn’t certain such a gift to explain that many emotions would actually even exist. At least, he’d never come across anything that read “Hi, I know I treated you badly last year but I actually like you even though you think I’m straight and I’m sorry I’m bad at words and emotions and figuring out life, but you’re cute and nice and I’m willing to learn about Beyonce for you. Will you go out with me?” concisely. In fact, even if such a gift existed, Jack didn’t think he’d actually get it, because that much at once might be overwhelming, especially when he was pretty sure Bitty thought Jack hated him. 

In all honestly, he’d meant to set things right with that this term. Really, he had. Jack had spent the last month of Summer break planning out speeches and writing cards that he could slip under Bitty’s door, apologizing for his behavior last year, or welcoming him to the Haus, as well as a few other things, but somehow none of them had seemed right. And then living next to Bitty was not at all what Jack had expected, and practices had started, and the term really got going, and he started having thesis meetings with his advisors, and it just never worked out. 

“Maybe I should give up on this,” he said aloud. The words bounced off the walls of the empty locker room. Jack shook his head as the words echoed themselves into silence. He glanced around briefly, ready to go (maybe to the mall, maybe back to the Haus, he wasn’t sure yet), when he noticed that Bitty’s stuff was still sitting on the floor. 

He’d thought everyone left already. Jack shrugged and made his way out of the locker room, towards the ice. If Bitty was still here, he wanted to know before he left. It was just being a good captain, was the excuse he gave himself. 

“Bittle? Are you still here?” He called quietly, not sure what else to do. There was no response. Jack kept walking and blinking until the brightness of the rink had cleared away and he could see down the tiered seats to the expansive ice clearly. Bitty was sitting at the center of the ice, still in padding and his practice jersey, bouncing a puck between his hands.

“Bittle? What are you doing?” As he spoke, Jack walked down the bleachers, heading towards the bench, and beyond it, the ice. 

Bitty looked up and dropped the puck in a hurry, but made no move to stand. 

“Um, hi, Jack. I didn’t know you were still here.” Bitty’s voice shook. Jack froze, about to step onto the rink. He examined the boy in front of him—he looked okay, no visible injuries. But something was definitely wrong. 

“What are you still doing here, Bittle?” 

“I—uhh—I was practicing.”

“Practicing what, exactly?” Jack glanced around, trying to find some sort of clue on the ice. Bitty’s stick was on the far side, nowhere near where he’d been sitting, and the sitting itself made it clear that it wasn’t skating that Bitty was out here working on.

“Just forget it,” Bitty said standing up, his face pinking.

“Bittle—Eric. I know I’m not good at—whatever it is, I’d like to help?” Jack said earnestly, looking down at his hands. Whether it was Jack using his actual name, or the words themselves, Jack didn’t know, but Bitty froze.

“You want to help me? Why?”

Jack floundered for a moment, not sure what to say. Finally, he settled for “I’m your captain, and I, um, care about the team and you?” There, that wasn’t horrible. That actually might have sounded nice. Jack could do this. He could totally do this. 

“Oh, okay. That’s nice. Thanks.” Bitty said nothing after that, and they fell into an awkward silence while Jack stood by doing nothing and Bitty sat back down slowly, kicking his skate-clad feet out in front of him. Eventually, Jack moved to sit down, too, although he kept a good foot or so between himself and Bitty as he did.

“You see,” Bitty finally broke the silence with. “I’m trying to fix my checking issue.” He fell silent, as if expecting Jack to say something, and then continued when Jack did not. “I can’t play hockey if I’m so afraid of being checked. So I’m trying to psych myself up, so that I can get over it and stop being a wimp—”

“You’re not a wimp,” Jack cut in. Then the tips of his ears went hot when he realized what he’d just said. 

“Thanks, but I really am. Even Coach has said something. If I can’t get over it, I can’t play, and then what good am I. It’s not like I’ll be kept around because of my pies or something.” Bitty sighed and looked down at his hands.

“They are really good pies, though,” was all Jack could think to say. Bitty gave a watery chuckle, which forced Jack to look up. He thought for a few moments on how to word what he wanted to say. “You’re a good player, despite your fear. We’ll find a way to keep you on the team, I promise. If you want, I or the guys can try and help you work on it, too?” 

His words echoed around the rink, and for a while, the only sound to be heard were Bitty’s quiet sniffles. Jack was tempted to scoot closer, and was about to when a small “Thanks” was muttered. And that was it. 

A few moments later, Bitty was standing up and Jack was too, and then Bitty hugged him tightly and thanked him again before leaving the ice, heading in the direction of the locker room. Jack stood there for a moment, looking up at the metal ceiling with its hanging florescent lights, which glinted off of the boards and made the ice sparkle. He smiled.

He was worried about Bitty, a lot, but maybe things would be okay. Jack, at the very least, had an idea of what to get Bitty now.


End file.
